REINA

His hand tormented the other breast, pinching and soothing in perfect rhythm. My back bowed off the couch, thighs tightening around his hips as wetness slicked my folds.

He released my nipple with a wet pop and looked up at me, eyes almost black with desire. “You’re so fucking beautiful like this,” he murmured, voice reverent. “Flushed. Shaking. All mine.”

The words hit me harder than his touch. Mine. I should have argued. Should have reminded him this was temporary, dangerous, impossible. Instead I pulled him back up and kissed him again, pouring everything I couldn’t say into it—fear, want, surrender.

His hand slid down my stomach, slow and...